arll mmph fherylamph
That's all I could utter earlier whilst still under the influence of Novocaine, or whatever they use nowadays. That's three teeth done in three days. All for the cause. My dear Dr Transplant says that the mouth must be in perfect condition prior to surgery. Apparently they've had some nasty surprises in the past when, subsequent to intubation, abscessed teeth have broken and released mucky stuff into the bloodstream, thus provoking end-of-life situations. I wish to avoid such situations if at all possible.
So I happily skipped off to the dentist after never having set foot in one for over twenty-five years. Very pleasantly surprised by the experience, I can tell you. No menacing mister wrapped in blood-stained smock bearing medieval instruments of torture. Instead, an extremely nice white-haired gentleman who performed his magic in a light and airy suite of offices accompanied by demure and bosomy nurses, and Chopin. Although each session was over an hour long, the worst I suffered was a crick in the neck from the position. Anyone in Geneva want his name give me a call.